


minivan

by weatheredlaw



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Divorce, Emotional Baggage, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2359037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We'll get you out of here." He looks down at Junior and smiles. "Promise."</p>
            </blockquote>





	minivan

**Author's Note:**

> i should probably put this and a few others in some kind of series, just to keep them together, because in my head they're all related -- like canon-compliant character studies or something.

Tucker used to see his dad every other weekend. He'd pick him up from school the second and fourth Friday of every month and bring him back to his mom's house the night of every second and fourth Sunday. That was how it worked. That was how they did things. That was kind of how they both liked it. 

It wasn't like Tucker didn't love his dad, or even that his dad didn't love him. He was a busy guy -- he was a lawyer and he worked a lot. He slept in his office some nights and didn't get out much. They spent their weekends watching TV or sometimes going to the Six Flags nearby or experimenting with that weird fusion restaurant down the street -- but outside of their two weekends a month, Tucker's dad was not very good at being Tucker's dad.

 

 

 

Junior is looking at him expectantly, which Tucker can see, but Church cannot. 

"Where the fuck are his eyes?"

Tucker narrows his own and points. "Dude. He's standing right here. And his eyes are on his _face_. Don't be such a dick." Church shakes his head and goes off the make sure Caboose hasn't accidentally shot Sister in the face. Tucker gets down on one knee and tips his fingers under Junior's chin. "It's okay. He's just an asshole." He sits on the hill with him and looks out. "This is a shitty place for you to be, isn't it bud?" Junior makes a little noise that Tucker thinks is agreement, and the kid sits down next to him. "We'll get you out of here." He looks down at Junior and smiles. "Promise."

 

 

 

"You _said_ we'd go to the beach this weekend. You _promised._ "

Tucker's dad pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, something Tucker has learned that he does when he is trying not to say words that sound like bombs. "I know. But we can't. I can't. We're gonna have to skip this weekend, bud."

"This _sucks._ You never keep your promises." Tucker's standing on the edge of the roundabout in front of his school, his mother behind him, his father on both knees in front of him. 

"Kiddo. I've got so much work to do this weekend. I promise I'll make it up to you."

Tucker leans back into his mother's arms and snarls. "No you _won't_."

 

 

 

"My _fucking_ kid was on that ship!" Tucker feels something howling inside of him, the edges of it cutting his rib cage, forcing its way out of his throat. "And you _blew it up!_ "

"Hey, you said--"

"No one _fucking told you_ to _blow it up!_ " Tucker is shaking he can't think straight he doesn't know where this came from he hasn't--

"Tucker?" Caboose's hand is on his shoulder. "Tucker, we should go with Church. We should go back to the base."

Tucker shakes his head. He can't get the words out right, and they sound tiny, and thin. Forced through a straw. "I promised. I _promised._ " 

Caboose nods, wrapping a hand around Tucker's elbow and leading him inside. He doesn't say anything, just takes him to his room and points to the bed. "You should sleep. Sleeping will help."

"It won't--"

"Sleeping will help you think better," Caboose says firmly. "Sleeping will help you understand."

Tucker wants to say that there is nothing on this planet or any other that's going to help him understand why his kid was on that ship, or why this program or these people or those _assholes_ wanted Junior.. But Caboose is shutting the door and Tucker feels so _tired_. He gets his armor off and sits on the bed, falling to his side and tucking his knees against his chest.

It isn't much, and it doesn't fix anything, but Caboose is right.

It sort of helps.

 

 

 

He and his dad are standing in front of the Black Cat tent, ten dollars in each of their hands. 

"Okay. This is gonna be the best weekend ever," his dad says. "I promise."

"Can I get anything I want?"

"Anything you want. Except for those over there. Don't touch those." 

"Right." Tucker nods and steps into the tent, the familiar smell of fireworks invading his nose. Fourth of July is always dad's weekend, because mom works at the hospital every year and doesn't really like fireworks. Tucker loves them. His dad loves them. This year, they're going to the beach and they're going to set off bottle rockets and grill with his dad's sister and her kids and nothing is going to stop this from happening.

They walk out with their brown bags full of sparklers and Roman candles and everything they can get for twenty bucks and load it into the car. His dad leans over and tucks a hand behind Tucker's neck, looking at him with certainty. "We are going to the beach tomorrow. You and I are having the best day ever. Understand?" Tucker nods. "Let's go get pizza."

 

 

 

Tucker keeps his head down on the transport ship. There's no one here but him and the pilot, and no one bothered to ask him much when he got on. He handed them his transfer orders, and that's about it. The ships rocks gently back and forth, giving Tucker more nausea than he can remember having. And he remembers having it pretty well. 

He closes his eyes and thinks about that day on the beach. About how his dad couldn't leave the phone in the car, and he spent the day with his cousins, watching from a distance while his dad took a call, hung up, took another. 

To be fair to him, his dad didn't lie. They did go to the beach. And Tucker was eleven and had twenty dollars worth of fireworks with him. So yeah, when his mom asked later, _did you have a good time_ , Tucker wasn't lying when he told her he did. 

His aunt took him home that night. His dad left without telling him. 

Tucker doesn't get angry when he thinks about it. His dad was a lawyer, a busy lawyer. It's one of the reasons he couldn't stay married. Work just came first. Work kept coming first. When Tucker was younger, he wasn't as busy, and it was easy to be Dad on a Friday. Eventually, the weekends got fewer and further between, and Tucker would go months without seeing him. He doesn't hold it against him anymore. His dad paid the child support, got him a birthday present every year. He came to every graduation, paid the fees when Tucker wanted to try baseball, didn't get mad when he dropped out three months later.

When Tucker joined up, his mother called her ex husband for the first time in sixteen years, all on her own, told him that their son was going to war, that she couldn't talk him out of it, that he was _leaving her_ and Tucker couldn't argue. He was. He did. He left her. 

It's been so long since he's seen either of them. He wonders if they'd recognize the person he's become. 

"If this is what you want, then I support you." His dad had looked at him carefully, and Tucker knew that he was being honest.

"This is what I want."

"Tell your mother that."

Tucker looked at his mother. "This is what I want." 

 

 

 

Before it had all fallen apart, Tucker looked at Junior and said, "This is what I want."

 

 

 

When he lands in the desert, the heat chokes him until he remembers his suit has a cooling unit. Never really needed it on Blood Gulch. He reports to a douche bag, guy named CT. Hands off his transfer orders, gets his bunk assigned to him.

It's early in the morning when another ship lands outside the base, and a woman in white armor is hauling Tucker out of bed, ordering him to get dress. "Come on, private. Got a surprise for you."

Tucker's fucking _exhausted._ He doesn't have the energy for surprises, and he doesn't want whatever these crazy people _think_ he wants. When he's suited up, he heads outside, looking out at the ship. 

It's not hard to spot him from here. Tucker knows his kid, he knows what he looks like. He sprints through the sand as best as he can and lands on both knees in front of him. "Junior!" He's taller now, by just a little, and he makes the same kind of happy, scratching noises he used to when Tucker would find him hiding in the corners of the base. "Hey, bud. _Hey._ "

"So this is your son."

"Yeah."

"Interesting." Junior attaches himself to Tucker when he gets up, and Tucker doesn't want to ever let go. "I think we may have a job for you, Private Tucker. A pretty damn important one."

 

 

 

Tucker remembers his dad being gone a lot. He remembers his mom working long hours at the hospital, and spending a lot of time in the living room, eating raviolis and waiting for her to get home. She'd always set her purse by the door and he'd make her dinner and she'd ask him about his day. Every night. She'd help him with math homework, give him a hair cut. She'd take him to school in the morning, lunch packed. There was a note inside. Tucker had collected them all. Somewhere back home, they're in the shoe box under his bed, every note his mother ever wrote.

He remembers his dad being a happy guy. Busy, but happy. He remembers the look on his face when he had to tell Tucker that he needed to skip this weekend. That they were going to have to cut it short. He knows the guy cared. It didn't make it hurt less, and it didn't make it better -- but knowing what he knows now, knowing war and the way blood tastes in your mouth when you've been shot -- Tucker doesn't hold it against him.

Tucker made a promise to Junior, on that hill in the canyon. It took some time, and it took some sleeping, but he still feels like he's done right by him. Like what they've done for one another is good and enough.

Tucker looks down at his kid, sleeping in the bunk next to him, and he says out loud, "This is what I want."

It's the truth. And nothing else.


End file.
